


heart beat bruise

by orro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blood, Blood Play, Bondage, Breathplay, Bruises, Choking, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Dominance, Face Punching, Face Slapping, Handcuffs, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, asexual kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:57:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orro/pseuds/orro
Summary: Yuuri rolls his eyes and shoos him off, something that Yuri allows only because he can tell that Yuuri is getting properly pissed off at him, and the rink is not where he wants him to explode.Yuuri can put him back together like no one else can but that means he has to break him down first. It’s a wonderful and terrifying experience that he’s not always prepared for.This is what Yuri wants, but never knows how to ask for, no matter how many times they talk about it.





	heart beat bruise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoolDoggo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolDoggo/gifts).



> Thank you Siobhan for your help in reading it over and making sure it was safe to read.
> 
> Keagan, I hope you like it!

“Stop marking your jumps and do a damn triple, old man,” Yuri sneers as Yuuri grabs his water bottle from the bench. 

“What? Why?” Yuuri asks, frowning at him. 

“You’re being lazy.” Yuri pokes his boyfriend’s side, digging his finger far too hard into his stomach. He smirks as Yuuri squawks and moves away. 

“I’m not. But there’s no point in showing off in front of the juniors like that.” Yuuri glances over at the younger skaters, knowing they’re keeping an eye on them. They’re nosy like that. And Yuuri has always hated the extra attention but that’s what you get for becoming a champion. 

Yuri, on the other hand, soaks it in. He doesn’t need to hide. Instead he juts a hip out and leans down to challenge Yuuri. 

“It’s not showing off. Do a triple.” 

“No,” Yuuri says simply and caps his water. 

Yuri kicks at the ice, but Yuuri skates away in time to avoid getting hit by it, and he scowls. He waits until Yuuri is done talking to the junior he’s teaching choreography to then leaps into a quad, smirking at the impressed sounds from around him. It’s Yuuri’s blank look that really pleases him though. 

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy on yourself,” Yuuri chides softly as Yuri skates to him, unable to resist. 

“The doctors said I was clear to jump weeks ago. I’m twenty, not fifteen, you can’t scare me into slowing down again,” Yuri snaps. He took a bad fall on his knee, the weaker left one of fucking course, and he’d been off ice for three weeks and relegated to no jumps for another three. But that was a while ago; Yuuri is just nagging and Yuri hates it. 

“You fell last week and the bruise is still there,” Yuuri says, calm even as Yuri is visibly growing more frustrated. 

“A bruise never stopped anyone from skating,” Yuri says. He pulls his hair tie out and pull his hair up into a tighter tail, snapping the tie at him.

Yuuri rolls his eyes and shoos him off, something that Yuri allows only because he can tell that Yuuri is getting properly pissed off at him, and the rink is not where he wants him to explode. 

Still, he goes back to throwing out random triples and quads, making sure to meet Yuuri’s eyes each time after. It’s exhausting but it’s so worth it to see Yuuri struggle to ignore him or to keep from glaring daggers at him.

But it’s on the last quad that he falls and slams down hard, avoiding his hip bone by a fraction. He hits the old bruise on his thigh again though and he hisses as he stands up, knowing the pain will only grow throughout the afternoon and night. 

Yuuri isn’t looking at him but Yuri knows he saw. He doesn’t say anything on the walk back, silent and contemplative, though Yuri catches him looking at the side he bruised. Yuri talks to fill the void, content with Yuuri just nodding and making small noises of agreement or the way he huffs in laughter despite himself.

Part of Yuri thinks that he misread Yuuri, and he’s a little sad about that but also a part relieved. Yuuri can put him back together like no one else can but that means he has to break him down first. It’s a wonderful and terrifying experience that he’s not always prepared for, no matter how many times it’s happened.

He’s barely had time to go through the door and kick off his shoes when Yuuri slams him into the wall, hard enough that the coats hanging against the wall shake on their hooks. Yuuri pins one of Yuri’s arms behind his back, the other going to his throat to keep him in place. 

“What the hell was that,” Yuuri says, not asking. He knows why Yuri was acting like such a brat. This is what Yuri wants, but never knows how to ask for, no matter how many times they talk about it. 

“Let go,” Yuri whispers, debating whether he’s going to kick and fight. 

He’s a second away from pushing back when the hand around his throat tightens, and Yuri wheezes as Yuuri’s fingers dig in. It isn’t until his knees hit the ground that Yuuri lets him go and Yuri clutches at the wall as he gasps for breath. He doesn’t have the air to protest as Yuuri takes him by the arm and drags him to the couch, nor does he get a chance as Yuuri grabs a pair of metal handcuffs from under the cushions and locks his arms behind him. 

“Fuck,” Yuri gasps. He’s flexible enough that he can slide his arms forward and give Yuuri a piece of his mind. But before he can do that Yuuri slaps him across the face, hard enough that he falls onto the couch and lies there in a daze, his ears ringing. 

Yuuri flips him from his side to his back and climbs on top of him, hands around his throat again, and pushes down hard enough that Yuri starts to panic. There’s nothing soft in his eyes. Yuri kicks and tries to scream, but nothing works. 

He can’t get Yuuri off. He can’t breathe. It hurts. 

Yuuri’s hands relax though they stay in place and Yuri’s lungs hurt as he tries to suck in as much air as possible, especially as Yuuri begins to tighten his grip again. It’s a slow process, and Yuuri never fully chokes him again, but he restricts Yuri’s breath and it’s enough to make him panic and thrash around. 

He’s drooling, tongue lax and mouth hanging open. Yuuri watches him with hungry eyes and lets go for a brief moment to wipe his mouth clean. Then his hand is back like it never left, totally at ease as he chokes Yuri again. 

He loses track of time. All he can do is focus on when he has space to breathe and when he doesn’t, and that singular focus takes up his whole being. 

Gulp, breathe, struggle. Repeat. Endless. He can’t breathe. He can. It all depends on Yuuri. Breathe. Can’t. Air. No. 

He comes back to reality, panting, realizing that Yuuri isn’t here and that’s why his airflow is unrestricted again. It’s so sweet even as it hurts to take in as much as he possibly can. 

Yuri struggles to sit up then sees Yuuri coming out of their room, with a thicker set of cuffs. It takes no effort for Yuuri to flip him over; he takes the metal handcuffs off, pulls his arms to his front, and slides the new cuffs on; Yuri can’t break free of these ones, no matter how hard he’s tried, and part of him surrenders with that knowledge. 

“Oh? Already?” Yuuri remarks as he tosses the old handcuffs aside. “I thought you had more fight in you.” 

“Fuck you,” Yuri spits, his heart pounding as he sees Yuuri’s look darken again. 

He slaps him again then throws him to the ground, kicking his side with his heel. Yuri tries to curl up but Yuuri leans down to roll him onto his back. Yuuri grabs his face so that Yuri is forced to look up at him. 

“You’re such a little shit,” Yuuri says, conversational, as if he doesn’t have Yuri at his mercy. He lets his face go and slaps him again, once on the cheek, then he draws his fist back to punch him. Yuri flinches and closes his eyes but it never comes. 

He finally chances opening his eyes to see Yuuri waiting for him with a blank look. Then he smiles and punches; Yuri can’t help crying out, the sound pulled out from the very bottom of his chest. 

“There it is,” Yuuri says and pats Yuri right where he hit him. 

Yuri wants to curse at him but he can’t summon the energy. Instead he glares at him, pulling at his restraints even as he knows it’ll only make his wrist chafe and bruise. 

Yuuri sighs, a fake drawn out thing, and stands up again. Yuri sees his leg move to kick but his body doesn’t react in time. He grunts as Yuuri’s bare foot connects once, twice, and he quickly loses track. It’s obvious that Yuuri isn’t kicking him hard enough to break him. But it’s enough that he can maneuver Yuri wherever he wants him to go and all Yuri can do is curl up to try to avoid it hurting more. He lets Yuuri do what he wants with him and tries not to cry out again. 

Yuuri stops and climbs over him, close enough that Yuri can feel him but without putting his weight on him. There’s a second of fear because he can see that Yuuri is still eyeing him like a piece of meat, trying to decide where to press next to make him crack further, and Yuri doesn’t know what he’s up to. 

“You’re really reckless, you know,” Yuuri says as he settles his hand on Yuri’s thigh, right over his newly formed bruise from today. 

Yuri sobs as Yuuri’s fingers dig in, and he can’t control the sounds that escape from him. All he knows is pain, pain, burning wonderful pain, and it’s coming from Yuuri. He can’t kick or squirm away without making it worse. Yuri cries out wordlessly, too far gone to form any concrete idea. 

“How pathetic,” Yuuri says.

Yuri stares up at him, blank and far away, struggling to focus on Yuuri’s face. He wants to apologize, to beg for mercy or kindness, but nothing is coming together. All he can do is wait for Yuuri to finish because that’s what he deserves. He can listen; he can be good.

Yuuri pets his cheek, and Yuri turns into it, hissing as Yuuri applies more pressure. Yuuri’s eyes are bright and his grip tightens on Yuri’s hip before his fingers slide down to pull Yuri’s pants down to his knees. Yuri follows it, blinking repeatedly until his gaze understands that he’s looking at the bruise on his leg. 

It’s grotesque, purpling and swelling, and Yuri groans at seeing it. Yuuri laughs a little and draws his index finger over it, so quick that it normally wouldn't have fazed him. But Yuri hisses as even that light motion cause it to throb. 

Then Yuuri digs his nails into it, and Yuri screams. 

His throat is hoarse by the time he finishes, his leg pulsing with pain, and he can’t even hear Yuuri calling his name. 

There’s blood on Yuuri’s fingers. His blood. He can feel it drop down his thighs but it’s so far away. 

Yuuri strokes his face and Yuri barely reacts, only slightly turning his head towards the sensation.

“Beautiful,” Yuuri whispers and Yuri has nothing left in him. 

They stay like that for a while, how long Yuri has no way of knowing. His mind drifts, tethered only by the light touches that Yuuri inflicts on him, as Yuuri takes his chance to enjoy a pliant Yuri beneath him. 

It’s peaceful, to feel his body throb where Yuuri hurt him. He likes this, loves it, the way his mind is clear from the world. 

Yuuri picks him up at some point and lays him out on the couch but Yuri can’t remember at what point he stopped being on the ground.

Yuuri unlocks the handcuffs and lays Yuri’s hands by his sides, gently avoiding the rash on his wrists. He doesn’t leave him but he occasionally moves out of his sight, and Yuri tries to whine each time even though he isn’t always successful. 

Yuuri lifts his legs to slide his pants off and slips on a soft pair of shorts, coaxing Yuri into lifting his butt off the sofa so he can get them all the way on. It hurts a little when the fabric touches his bruise but they’re short enough that they don’t present that problem again. 

It goes on like that, Yuuri taking extreme caution now to avoid hurting Yuri, and it always strikes him as hilarious considering that just a few minutes (or maybe hours) ago Yuuri was kicking his ass. 

It takes him a while to clean and wrap Yuri’s thigh, and Yuri doesn’t hesitate to moan or cry about it. The hard crying he did earlier means he doesn’t have the energy to do it again so soon but he lets a few tears leak out, and pleads with his eyes for Yuuri to hurry up. He can’t do that again, not tonight. 

With a warm, damp washcloth Yuuri wipes at his face and it comes away a familiar reddish-brown. Yuri nearly giggles at the thought of Yuuri painting on his cheeks with his blood but he doesn’t have the capacity for that. He sorely wishes he had been paying attention but there’s no room in his head right now for regrets. 

The red on top of the quickly darkening bruises must have been beautiful. 

Yuuri is combing his hair out when Yuri stirs and mumbles. 

“What was that?” Yuuri asks. 

“Thirsty,” he says, summoning up the majority of his energy to speak loud enough to be heard. 

Yuuri takes off in a flash to get him something to drink and even brings the glass of water to his lips, doing as much of the work for him as possible. He’s being spoiled but Yuri just soaks it up without shame. 

It feels so good to be stretched out, his body throbbing, and Yuuri in sight. 

“Can you get up and walk around a little?” Yuuri asks, as he sets the glass down. 

“No,” Yuri says, pouting and turning to his side a little. He doesn’t want to get up and move around. He wants to stay right here and ride out this high as long as possible. 

“Sit up for me,” Yuuri orders but Yuri looks at him beseechingly. 

Yuuri rolls his eyes but he doesn’t make Yuri stand up; instead he forces him to sit back up and then he slides down so he can maneuver Yuri’s thigh around. Yuri hisses a little but the pain subsides right away; Yuuri sighs in relief. 

“I was worried I went too far,” he says. 

“You never do,” Yuri says, poking at his bruise, wincing. He ignores Yuuri when he tells him to cut it out and does it again. Then he pauses and sets his hands on top of his knees where Yuuri can see them. “I can still skate on it, especially if I keep off it the whole night.” 

“Hm. Stand for me once? And take just a few steps. Go look at yourself in the mirror, if you’d like.” 

That’s a good incentive. Yuri lets Yuuri pull him up, and limps over to the full length mirror by the kitchen. 

“Aw shit, I look so damn good,” Yuri says, admiring the bruises around his neck. He twists to see from the side, able to see Yuuri in the background of the mirror as well, looking equally pleased. They need to take a million pictures of this since Yuri has to cover it up with makeup to go out and before it heals. But they’ll both know the marks are there. “You’re getting so much better at this.” 

Yuuri chuckles, a little nervous still, but mostly dark and possessive. He beckons to Yuri and he obligingly returns, sitting between his legs so that Yuuri can run his fingers over Yuri’s neck. 

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs right before he presses a kiss to the biggest of the bruises. 

Yuri moans and melts into his arms. Yuuri won’t hurt him anymore tonight but that’s alright; next time will be even better.


End file.
